It Doesn't Mean Anything, Except Everything
by RoseFleur
Summary: It was just a drunken night, a physical action. So why is she stood on one side of the door and he on the other, struggling for breath, willing her heart to stop beating so furiously? T/M for naughty naughty Noah.


**A/N: Firstly I do not own Glee. **

**Secondly, I wasn't sure whether to put this story as T or M. I went with T, but if you think I made a mistake there, I'm really sorry and I hope I didn't offend anyone.**

**Thirdly, I toyed with this so much. I really, really wasn't happy with it, and wasn't going to post it at all but something made me want to see what you guys thought. Upon a further reading, I was a little happier but I still don't think it's the best thing I've written, not even close. On that note I would really especially appreciate reviews for this story because of my anxiety and battle with it. If you thought it was awful, please tell me because I really do want to know. If you liked it, I'd like to know anyway :) **

**Finally, you can go ahead and read it. Thanks for clicking on my story & hopefully I'll be reading & replying to your reviews soon. **

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><p>When he knocks on her door, she opens it only momentarily before her eyes cloud over and she shuts it in his face. Leaning against the cold wood, she can hear his heavy breathing from behind the door. Knowing that he's still standing there makes her heart beat only faster, so much so she struggles to breathe herself. But she can't open that door; she can't allow it to happen again, not this time.<p>

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At first it was nothing, a bit of harmless fun on a drunken night. She was so pleased to receive an invite to Brittany's house party; she could barely contain her excitement. She turned up at the house, brimming with anticipation. She had chosen a carefully selected outfit, which included no knee socks for a change, and had replaced them with a pair of tight fit, dark wash skinny jeans. She'd pieced these with a simple white ribbed cotton vest, snug enough and low enough that it revealed a growing cleavage, without flaunting it desperately. She had covered it with an open, dark pink chequered button down shirt. Over all, Rachel felt that she was dressed very un-Berry and this pleased her greatly. It wasn't that she didn't still love her tiny skirts and animal sweaters, but this was a sign of moving on and growing up. She had moved on from Finn, and he had moved on from her – she was positive that the second she walked in the door she'd find him with his arms wrapped around Quinn, moving right on from her – and she was growing up.

She was ready for New York, ready to be a part of something bigger and better than Lima and bigger than she thought she could ever be. So here she was, in her denim jeans and button down shirt, replacing RuPaul with Rachel. She could finally be the heroine of her _own _story, her fairy-tale, instead of waiting for her Finn Charming to catch up with her. She knocked on the door and waited with baited breath. Santana swung the door open, and waved her in, her tongue trying to locate a straw that was wavering from the neck of a bottle.

"Looking good Berry," she drawled, casting her eyes over Rachel's outfit.

"Why thank you Santana, you look lovely yourself." Rachel beamed at her, taking in her short, tight purple dress and black jacket.

Shortly after, Brittany appeared and put her arms around Santana kissing her lightly on the cheek. It was now common knowledge that the two girls were together, and in Rachel's opinion Santana coming out as a lesbian only made her a friendlier person. Brittany ushered Rachel into the kitchen, her arms still wrapped around a stumbling Santana. Sure enough, Prince Charming and The Ice Queen were locked in a tight embrace in the corner. They were attached so tightly together, it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"Ignore it B, you're better than any of them," Santana slurred, sucking hard on the straw she had now located.

Brittany nodded enthusiastically and said, "Can I offer you a drink?"

Rachel surveyed the work top, the brightly coloured bottles and the dark pints of beer. She carefully selected herself a small glass of vodka and orange and followed the two girls out to the patio. Once there she noted the rest of her friends drinking out of plastic cups and laughing jovially with each other. Kurt and Blaine were chatting animatedly with Sam and Mercedes: Blaine with his arm wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist and Mercedes leaning between Sam's legs as he rested on a wall. Tina and Mike were sat on the floor playing some form of drinking game with Artie and Puck.

It was nice, Rachel reasoned, to finally see Noah getting on so well with his teammates after a somewhat hesitant start. Brittany bounded over to Kurt's group to offer more drinks, whilst she and Santana sat down beside the drinking game.

"Berry!" cried Puck, "You're just in time."

"For what?" laughed Rachel,

"We're playing 'I Never'." He grinned suggestively, "And I'm up. Hmm… I Never made out with someone in school."

"What the hell Puckerman, you're meant to have _not _done what you said!" exclaimed Santana as she downed her own shot and watched Puck do the same.

"I know," said Puck, "I just wanted to see if my suspicions about Berry were true."

"What were they?" questioned Rachel, reaching forward to take a shot.

Watching her throw it back, Puck said, "I knew you were a naughty little girl, sneaking around in places you shouldn't."

Feeling more confident and less 'RuPaul'-ish as the hot liquid skimmed down her throat, Rachel winked and said, "Baby, you knew that anyway."

"Ohhh!" The whole group cried, throwing their hands in the air.

"Berry's laid down the gauntlet," Artie whistled through his teeth. He held up his hands in defeat. "I can't beat that. I'm out."

Santana nodded in agreement and Tina and Mike were already attached by the mouth, so it seemed indeed, that the game was over. Rachel stood up and laughed, brushing dirt off the back of her jeans. She bowed theatrically and as she did so, Puck got a pretty good view down her top. As she stretched up, her vest rose a little, revealing a strip of tanned, flat, smooth stomach which stirred something inside him. He followed her into the kitchen where she was pouring herself another glass.

He came behind her and stood so close to her that the heat between their bodies was inescapable. He put one hand either side of her body and trapped her against the work surface.

"You look pretty fuckin' hot tonight, Berry." He breathed in her ear, causing her to choke a little on the drink sliding through her body.

"And you're drunk." She murmured in return, leaning her head back into his shoulder so his hot breath tickled her ear.

"Not enough that I'll do something we'll regret." He uttered, sending a shiver down her back.

She spun around and looked him in the eye, "What do you mean by that?"

"Come on Berry, you and me, we're a good looking pair, let's just have one night where we forget everything and have fun." He offered, catching her eye.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rachel bit her lip, choosing to say the right thing, instead of what she knew her body wanted. She moved to try and get out of his way but he had her trapped against the work surface. He moved one hand to her lower back and dragged her towards him, closing any gap between them. He could feel her heart pulsating in her chest and purred 'Come on' in a deep, husky tone.

Rachel swallowed thickly and met his hazel eyes, dancing in the little light. "No-one can know."

"Deal." He replied shortly, and tipped his head down to meet his lips to hers.

She clutched his face in her palms and kissed him hungrily, devouring every part of him. She lifted herself into his arms and he ran one hand up her denim-clad thigh, before resting both arms under her, holding her tightly in his grip. She ran a hand through his Mohawk and moaned slightly. He broke away and glanced over his shoulder before backing them up into a downstairs bathroom and dropping her to the floor.

"No-one can know, right?" He said, locking the door behind them.

"Right," She said breathlessly.

They glanced at each other momentarily, savouring the moment of tension, before she leapt into his arms again and placed a kiss on either side of his mouth.

"Rach," He moaned in a low, guttural tone.

"Yes baby?" She teased, arching her back in his grip, drawing away from his mouth.

He sighed and attacked her mouth with his, ravishing it hungrily. He moved to sit on the toilet seat and placed her in his lap. She straddled his hips, feeling him beneath her. She ran a hand through his Mohawk once more as he trailed kisses from her swollen lips, to her jawline, down to her neck. He nipped and pecked at it before sinking his mouth onto it and sucking gently. Rachel sighed desperately, feeling a buzz trail down her back. She returned the favour, the tip of her tongue dancing across his ear before she tugged softly on his ear lobe. She felt him harden beneath her and smiled mischievously at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Berry, what do you do to me?" He groaned, sensing sobriety crossing over him.

She grinned and slanted her mouth over his, biting his lip and darting her tongue inside. He grazed her chest with his hands and she reached into his trousers, alleviating the pressure he felt. Their tongues danced together for how long, neither knew, but when they finally parted, both were gasping for breath. Rachel pulled herself off of his knee and checked her reflection in the mirror.

"Nice work," She smirked covering the growing bruise with her hair, flattening the flyaway strands from Noah's raking through it.

"Thank you." He murmured, getting up from the seat, buttoning up his jeans and coming to stand behind her. He placed a lingering kiss on her neck before slipping out the door and disappearing into the crowd. It was like having a cool glass of lemonade after spending a year in a desert. He'd only just left and already she was aching for more. She swallowed, placed one more hair and opened the door.

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When she heard the knock at the door, he was the last person she expected to see.

"Noah?" asked Rachel in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you since last night. Can I come in?"

She nodded dumbstruck and led him up to her room. They stood for a moment, glancing up at each other before she was in his arms once more.

"I couldn't," He said between kisses, "Stop thinking… about you…"

"Me too," replied Rachel breathlessly, pushing her hair out of her way.

He compelled her towards the bed and she fell back eagerly, dragging him towards her by his thin grey t-shirt. He climbed nearer stroking her hair and kissing her avidly. He lifted her shirt roughly over her head and grazed her bare body with his hands.

"But we can't do this again Noah," Rachel groaned, arching her back in desperation.

"I know," he sighed in reply, tearing his own clothes off, "Last time I swear. Better make the most of it."

Disposing of the last shreds of her clothing, he covered her body with his and sank into her.

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But it wasn't enough to quench either of their thirsts. As he drove her up against the wall of the choir room one lunch time, they made a pact.

"It's only harmless fun." They said, "It doesn't mean anything, and there's no strings attached."

'_But seriously,' she thinks, resting her head against the wood, listening to his breathing, 'When does that ever work?' _

They promised each other that feelings wouldn't get in the way. It was meaningless, all of it. He was a Dark Knight, and she was a Princess, they weren't compatible. They were just satisfying a need. But it wasn't a need for sex; it was a need for each other.

She slithered out of his grip, and readjusted her skirt as the bell rang and Mr Schue entered the room.

"Hey you guys," He eyed them confusedly, "What are you two doing in here?"

"Rehearsing a duet," Puck filled instantaneously, "You know how well we work together." He caught Rachel's eye and she flushed furiously.

"Well, I look forward to hearing it." Mr Schue grinned, moving over to the piano.

"Me too," muttered Rachel, rolling her eyes and crossing the room to take a seat on the front row.

Puck slid into a seat behind her and rocked on his chair as the rest of the group entered the room in drabs. As Schue began on one of his enthusiastic, motivational speeches, Puck leaned forward and murmured in Rachel's ear,

"I'm coming to your house after school."

"Okay, but it's the last time." She hissed back.

"Deal."

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It wasn't the last time. It never would be. They continued their physical affair for the next month. They found hidden places to be together, each time promising that this one would be the last.

But one afternoon, as they found themselves together again in Rachel's bed, it all came tumbling down. He pushed himself up inside her kissing her as he did so; kissing her neck, her chest, her stomach. She moaned wildly, clutching at his shaven head, desperate for more. Eventually he rolled off her, lying in her sheets ruffled and exhilarated.

Then he uttered the _three words_, she thought she'd never hear Noah Puckerman say to any girl, not least her.

"I love you." He sighed blissfully, his eyes fluttering shut.

She sat bolt upright.

It must have been a slip of the tongue. He couldn't have meant it. Noah Puckerman, Puckzilla, didn't say _that_ and mean it.

"Get out." She said, pushing him out of her bed.

"Rachel!" He cried, standing up.

"Out!" She pointed at the door and pulled her knickers up under the sheets.

"What did I do?" frowned Puck, picking his clothes up off the floor.

She got out of the bed and stalked towards her bedroom door, holding it open.

"You know what you did. You brought feelings into this that you probably didn't even mean. So you need to leave. This is over. I mean it."

Puck sighed heavily and ran a hand through his Mohawk, walking over to the door.

"Fine," he said, "I understand. I'll let myself out." And he moved out of the doorway. At the last moment he turned around, "By the way, I meant every word."

Then he walked out of her house without glancing back.

Rachel swallowed thickly and cursed her eyes for tearing up. Of course he meant it; she was fooling herself if she thought otherwise, because she felt the same. But she wasn't going back there and most certainly she wasn't going to let her heart be broken. She crawled back into bed and dragged the sheets over her head, letting the thick duvet absorb her rapidly falling tears.

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And now, here she is, listening to his ragged breathing from the other side of the door. She waits there, silently inhaling and exhaling until she hears his footsteps move away from the door, his engine starting up and his truck rattling away. She stays stood still, her heart racing and her mind echoing, thoughts chasing each other, tripping over each other to be at the forefront of her brain. She can't be in this house right now. Everywhere she looks there are memories of him and _them_. She pulls her knee high boots on, bites her lip, grabs her keys and leaves the house.

She drives to the first place she thinks of. She forgets that it's the first place he'll think of as well. She sits in the bleachers, rain beginning to fall around her and she puts her head in her hands. She rubs a hand over her face, balls a fist and puts her forehead to it. She scrunches her eyes up, willing them not to tear, not now, it's not worth it.

"I meant it."

His voice comes from the other end of the bleacher. He advances towards her and she lets him sit beside her.

"I know," She murmurs, desperate that her voice doesn't crack, even though she can feel it breaking in her throat.

He clasps his hands on his knees and leans forward, staring straight ahead.

"I get it, if you don't feel the same way," He says, refusing to look at her. "But I've got a suspicion that you do."

"I know," She repeats, biting her lip and blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

He turns to look at her and taking her chin in between his thumb and index finger, he tilts her face to look at him.

"Take a chance on me." He whispers into the wind.

"I can't." She croaks back, tearing her face from his grip.

He slams his hands on the bench and cries, "What are you so afraid of?"

She is silent for a moment, the rain drizzling down her cheek, mingling with her tears, creating a train down her face.

"Getting my heart broken." She whispers at last, afraid even now that he'll hear and laugh in her face.

He does laugh, but it's not a mocking, merciless laugh, it's a humoured, teasing laugh.

"Berry, I thought you were smarter than that."

She finally looks at him, a confused look crossing her petite features.

"I ain't your Prince Charming and I ain't your White Knight," He says, "But sure as hell, I ain't gonna break your heart either."

He rubs his face with his palm and exclaims, "Jesus Berry, I'm in love with you. I'm laying my heart out on the line here, and you know me, you fuckin' know me, I wouldn't just do this for anyone. You're so much more than that."

And he takes her face in his hands and kisses her like it was the first time. He puts one hand on her lower back and pulls her onto his lap, covering her in kisses. Not their usual hungry, ravishing kisses, but delicate, beautiful, loving kisses. In her hair, beside her eye, on her nose, on the side of her mouth before kissing her long and hard and pushing his tongue inside.

Of course Rachel's theatrical mind goes into overdrive; _this _kiss hands down beats the Spiderman kiss in the rain and could possibly overtake 'The Notebook', as rain kisses go. She doesn't quite think they have the power of Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' yet, but she could probably get there if she got Noah to work really hard on it.

"Rach," says Puck, pulling away, "I can hear you thinking even whilst we're kissing."

She giggles slightly and covers her face blushing.

"Come on," He says, lifting her up, "We're going home." And he carries her over to his truck.

"Noah?" She says, biting her lip, a smile playing on her mouth.

"Yes Rachel," He smiles, somewhat condescendingly. She'll reprimand him later.

"I love you too. By the way."

"Never doubted you didn't."

And they drive off into the sunset. Or the rain. She'll work on the fairy-tale ending. Mind you, no fairy-tale relationship started with an illicit hand job in a toilet. It's her alternate fairy-tale, and he's her Dark Knight.

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><p><strong>Review me! With love xo<strong>


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